Falling Down
by Fuzzball457
Summary: When Sam hides an illness, things get dangerously out of hand. Hurt Sam Angsty/Worried Dean  & John. Teenchesters No slash.
1. Bad Day

**Hey guys, so I just had a little idea for this fic and it absolutely demanded to be written so here we are.**

**I'm going on vacation so it could be a while before chapter 2 is up. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of its characters, etc. etc.**

**Ages: Sam 14, Dean 18**

**This was beta'd by the insanely awesome Little Miss Artist, but I did some tweaking so all mistakes are mine. **

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1 - Bad Day

"Sam! Get down!" John cried as he prepared to fire a silver bullet straight through the werewolf's heart.

Sam dropped to his stomach on the forest floor and heard his father fire. The creature dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. Sam got to his feet and looked down at the beast.

"Dean, you okay?" John asked his oldest. With a powerful swipe of a clawed hand, the werewolf had sent Dean crashing into a tree.

"Yeah, I'm good." He said as he too stood up. The werewolf hadn't hit him that hard, it had just caught him a bit off guard. He also hadn't crashed into the tree that hard. No broken ribs, probably not even a concussion from hitting the tree.

"Alright, then. Let's burn this sucker and get out of here." John doused the body so no one would find it and lit it up.

The May night was chilly and Sam couldn't stop a small shiver from running through his body. The sudden warmth of the fire was welcoming and Sam had to stop himself from getting closer to bask in it.

Once the body was gone and the fire put out, the three Winchesters headed back to the waiting Impala. Sam slid into the backseat and felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. It was probably well after one in the morning. All the trekking through the woods and the battle with the very agile beast had left Sam more than longing for the comforts of a warm bed, well, after a shower, that is.

XXX

The warm water danced off Sam's shoulders and down his back. He stood in the shower for a while, allowing the water to relax and soothe his aching muscles, not to mention the headache pounding in his head.

"Sam, hurry it up would you! I need some hot water too you know!" Dean shouted as he pounded on the door.

"Kay, one minute," Sam shouted back as he reluctantly turned off the water. Sam got out of the shower and began toweling himself down. He noticed an odd red mark on the back of his left calf. It almost looked like a bulls-eye. Sam chuckled. Dean would probably make some stupid remark about Sam being a target for trouble or something.

Since the mark matched up with the location of the hole in his jeans, Sam pulled on some pajamas and pushed the mark out of his mind.

XXX

"Up and at 'em Sammy-boy, time for school," Dean called as he got dressed.

Sam dragged his eyes open just in time to see the pillow flying towards his head. He made a muffled groan as it him square in the face. Slowly, he dragged his aching body from the bed and began to dress.

"Hurry up, Sam!" Dean called from the kitchen.

Sam was thankful Dean wasn't in the room to hear his groans of pain. He couldn't really place it, he just felt…exhausted and his whole body just felt achy.

He shuffled into the kitchen. He had taken so long getting dressed he had no time to eat, so he swung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out to the waiting impala.

As he stood on the little porch facing the car, Sam steeled himself to face the day.

XXX

This was getting ridiculous. A week since the werewolf hunt and Sam was _still_ exhausted. He'd slept in late on Saturday and Sunday plus went to bed early every night and was just as tired as before. His whole body was sore and achy like he'd come off second best from a run in with a really pissy poltergeist.

Whether it was from fatigue or a side effect of whatever was ailing him, Sam didn't know, but he couldn't seem to concentrate well for the life of him.

So naturally, when Dean said that he and their dad were leaving for a week for a nearby hunt, Sam couldn't help but be a bit relieved. One week which he didn't have to keep up a mask of normality and hideaway all the pain.

Ten days after the werewolf hunt, Sam decided he needed to do something. So on his way home from school, he went a bit of course to swing by the free clinic. He knew he was young to be going alone and it would probably raise some questions, but Sam honestly didn't know how much longer he'd be able to last like this.

"Sam McKenzie?" The red-headed nurse standing in the corner of the waiting room called.

_If Dean was here, he'd be all over her. _Sam thought with a chuckle. He got up and followed her down a hallway.

"In here please, the doctor will be in to see you soon." Sam sat down on the padded exam table and leaned against the wall.

After a few minutes, an older male doctor came in. He had glasses and balding gray hair.

"Hello…" he glanced down at his clipboard, "Sam, what can I do for you?"

**TBC…**

**Thanks for reading and please review, they rock my salt!**


	2. Workin' It Out

**Hello! Here's the next chapter and for any of you following my other story, Diamond In The Rough, I'm working on the next chapter, really, I haven't given up on it. **

**Ages and disclaimer are in Chap 1.**

**I'm not a doctor, I just know how to work google :), so sorry for any medical mistakes.**

**Beta'd by the wonderous Little Miss Artist**

**P.S. All chapter titles and the overall titles are names from songs, which if you didn't guess, I don't own.**

**I did a bit of editing and it was brought to my attention that there is no over the counter antibiotic *_looking shameful*_ sorry about that. Like I said, I'm not a doctor.**

Chapter 2: Workin' It Out

"So besides being tired and achy, can you think of any other symptoms?"

Sam thought for a moment. Only a headache, but he got those a lot, it didn't necessarily mean anything.

"A headache, I guess, but that's pretty normal for me,"

"Have they gotten worse, meaning more painful or more often, lately?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess. I hadn't really thought about it until now…"

The doctor stared at him for a minute before continuing.

"Well, those symptoms are pretty broad…but I do have one more question, have you been in the woods lately?"

Sam's face shown with surprise. _That_ had come out of nowhere.

"Yeah, my father, my brother and I all went camping a little while ago," Sam said, slightly confused about what that had to do with anything.

"About the time the symptoms starting showing up?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah, that's about the time it started." A look passed the doctor's face and Sam didn't really like it. It was like Sam had basically just given his own diagnosis and had been too stupid to realize it. Course, that was probably exactly what had happened. But really, what did the woods have to do with anything? It's not like he'd even gotten a cut that could have gotten infected or anything. He didn't drink any gross water, so really, what did it matter?

"And, have you noticed any odd rashes anywhere?"

_Yes. _Sam had completely forgotten about the bulls-eye mark on his leg and was suddenly feeling very idiotic for not mentioning it as a symptom.

"Yeah, there's a," Sam swallowed, with what emotion he didn't know, "a mark on my calf that kinda looks like a target."

"Ahhh," the doctor said all knowingly and Sam realized that his swallow had been one of apprehension.

"So, um, do you know what's wrong with me?"

"I'm almost certain, but I have to do a bit of testing first. Unfortunately, as you may have noticed, our town is very small and I don't have the equipment needed here. What I'm going to do is get a blood sample from you, send it to a place with the equipment then let you know the results. It's a fairly quick procedure once they get it, so I'll probably be able to give you a confirmed diagnosis by the end of tomorrow."

"Can you tell me what you think it is?" Sam was somewhat excited and somewhat anxious. He knew from the way the doctor was talking that it was going to need a prescription drug to treat. That was going to be expensive, especially if it had to be taken for longer and that was not going to make their dad happy.

On the other hand, it would be nice to know what he was dealing with. To know that there was an actual reason he was so damn tired.

"Well, usually I don't like to tell my patients until I'm certain because I don't want to make it out as more or less than it really is, but you seem in a bit of a hurry to know, so I'll tell you. I'm fairly certain you have Lyme disease. It's a disease that a person gets when they're bitten by an infected tick. In about 90% of cases, a rash, usually in the shape of a bulls-eye forms around the bite mark, so that's a tell-tale symptom. Treatment is pretty easy when it's caught as early as this. Usually about ten to twenty-eight days of doxycycline, an antibiotic, does the trick. It's more difficult to treat if it goes undiagnosed for longer, but thankfully you came in."

XXX

Sam lazily flicked TV channels. Dean and John had called yesterday to say that the hunt went well and they would be back soon.

The doctor was also supposed to be calling soon with the results of the tests. He was nervous and jittery. Anything with the word 'disease' at the end wasn't a good thing.

Telling his father and brother seemed even less appealing. As far as the three of them went, he got off the easiest from the hunt. It didn't really seem right to start complaining when they had taken a worse beating. Besides, only he would be stupid enough to wear jeans with a hole in them and then get bitten by the one tick in the forest with Lyme disease.

A thought occurred to Sam. He could _not_ tell them…

Sam nearly had a heart attack when the phone did ring and he nearly killed himself struggling out of bed.

"Hello?" He said flipping it open.

"Hello, Sam McKenzie?" The doctor's familiar voice asked.

"That's me. What did the tests show?"

"Getting straight to business are we? Alright, well I have confirmed, you do in fact have Lyme disease. Right now, it's not that bad and I'm going to write you a prescription for doxycycline for 15 days. After that I just want to check in with you and you should be all set."

"Great, thanks."

"Do you know where the nearest pharmacy is? I can have the prescription faxed and you can pick it up there instead of coming all the way down here."

"Um, I think there's a Kinney Drugs on Pine street."

"Okay, I'll have it faxed there."

"Thanks," After Sam hung up he thought for a moment. There was no way he would have enough money to pay for the prescription. There was also no way he was going to tell his father that he needed money because an infected tick bit him on the werewolf hunt, meaning he had screwed up yet another hunt.

Sam thought for a few minutes then came up with a plan. A plan that wouldn't involve asking his dad or brother for money or admitting his screw up. It was pretty simple and hopeful it would work because the only other option without asking for money was stealing and no way was Sam doing that.

Sam grabbed his cell and wallet and headed out. He walked down the street and around the corner to Kinney Drugs. Inside, he went straight to the prescription counter.

"Are you Sam McKenzie?" The woman asked. He nodded. She grabbed a white paper bag with a piece of paper stapled to it and set it on the counter.

"Okay, I need a signature and the total comes to-"

"Actually," Sam said, cutting her off, "I need to get a few other things, can I just pay for it up front with my other stuff?"

"Of course, sweetie," She said with a smile. Sam grabbed the bag and walked down the closest aisle. Since he couldn't afford the prescription, some strong over-the-counter drug would have to do. He made his way over to the drug aisle and grabbed the strongest looking thing he could find. He shoved the paper bag with the prescription in the trash on the way to the front counter where he paid for the medicine and left.

As he rounded the corner, he panicked as he saw the familiar black car in the parking lot. He started sprinting and threw open the door.

"Sammy!" Dean said cheerily, turning to face him. A quick evaluation of the room had Sam asking, "Where's Dad?"

"Shower. So you're just gonna have to put up with my wonderful aroma until he's out." Dean said with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean spied the white plastic bag in Sam's hand.

"Watcha get?"

"Just some junk. How'd the hunt go?" Sam said trying to deflect the conversation.

Dean stared at him for a minute, obviously onto Sam's intentional change of subject, but didn't press the matter.

"Bastard's salted and burned and now a thing of the past," Dean said happily going back to unpacking the back. Sam took advantage of Dean's lack of focus on his mysterious bag and quickly made his way to their room where he hastily stowed the bag under his bed.

XXX

Sam wasn't sure if he was getting better or not. Honestly, probably not, but Sam had told himself over and over again he was. Mind over matter, after all. But truth be told, Sam was still just as exhausted and just as sore.

He sighed and rolled over in bed so he was facing the ceiling.

"Sammy, you still awake?" Dean asked sleepily. _Great. Dean's super-Sam-sense had gone off. _

"Sam?" Dean mumbled opening his eyes and rolling over to face Sam. "What are you still doing awake? You do realize it's like three in the morning?"

"Yes, Dean, I do," Sam said slightly annoyed.

"Geez, Sam, just trying to help." He paused before he continued more seriously. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Sam said. He rolled over in bed, back facing Dean, effectively stopping the conversation. Yes, it was rude, but Sam was determined to get this figured out by himself.

He heard Dean sigh and mumble a few things before the sheets ruffled and eventually Dean's breathing evened out.

Sam sighed. To put it simply, he was sick of being sick.

TBC…


	3. Hold On

**Okay, let me start off by saying I am so so so sorry for the wait. I can't give you any excuse and I'm sorry. You wonderful readers deserve better! Anyway thank you soo much for all the wonderful reviews guys! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own them *sniffles sadly* and I don't own the songs (all chapter titles as well as the story title are songs) and I'll list them all with their respective artists at the end.**

**My beta is on vacation so all mistakes are my own. **

**BTW I'm not a doctor, so all sorry about any medical mistakes. **

**Anyway, on with the show!**

Where we left off: _Sam sighed. To put it simply, he was sick of being sick._

**Hold On**

Tears slipped unbidden down Sam's cheeks and splashed onto the cotton pillowcase. Sam didn't blink or sniffle, he just stared unmoving at the ceiling.

Across the room Dean made a small noise in his sleep and Sam heard him roll over. Without moving his head, Sam's eyes slid over to Dean's sleeping form.

_I want to tell you so bad. I want you to know. I want you to help me._

Sam wasn't sure why he wasn't telling them anymore. It just seemed like every time he opened his mouth to say something, something would stop him or distract them or whatever it happened to be. The longer he waited the harder it got. He was digging himself deeper and deeper into a pit.

He had looked it up. The medicine he had got at the drug store didn't have the right chemicals or whatever to combat Lyme disease. This was getting out of hand. If Lyme Disease went untreated for too long it could become deadly. So why couldn't he speak out and ask his family for help? What was stopping him?

_You don't like this. None of this. Hunting, moving from crappy motel to crappy motel, always transferring school, always being the new kid no one likes. _

Sam pushed the depressing thoughts out of his mind. He needed to do something. Anything to keep himself busy.

Slowly he slid out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror and almost didn't recognize the ghost staring back. His face was pale and slightly sunken looking, his eyes had dark rings under them and every inch of him seemed to scream _siiiccckkk._

_How had they not noticed?_

_Because they don't want anything to be wrong. _A vicious voice in the back of his head responded. _They don't want to look close enough, they'd rather just assume all is well and get back to the hunt._

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but soon he heard Dean call out, "Sam? You in there? We got to leave for school in thirty."

" 'kay, I'll be out in a minute," Sam called back. He wasn't sure how he managed to make his voice sound so normal, but he did.

XXX

For once in his life, Sam couldn't wait for school to end. His head was pounding and his limbs felt like they weighed a ton.

He sat in biology, only half listening. He wasn't even pretending to pay attention. The whiteboard swam in and out of focus and the words on it blurred past recognition. The teacher's voice was a never ending drone and the lights were far too bright for Sam. He was just so tired. _Maybe if I just close my eyes for a second…_

"Sam?" Before he even realized what he was doing Sam was out of his seat, his teacher's wrist clamped tightly in his hand in a defense move. She looked startled beyond belief and if her eyes got any bigger they might just fall out of her head. _Poor woman_ Sam thought to himself. She had only been working here for a few weeks and still didn't even know all the students.

As soon as he was realized what had happened he released her and looked down in shame, mumbling apologies.

"D-don't worry, it's-it's okay," she managed to stammer. Sam slunk back into his seat as everyone snickered and shot looks at him.

Finally the bell rang and Sam slowly stumbled to his feet, more than happy to get the hell out of there. He was the last one to the door and just as he was about to leave a small voice stopped him.

"Sam?" He turned to see Mrs. Kleinman staring at him worriedly.

"Yes?" She looked unsure how to continue. She looked down at her desk

"Are you, I mean, you just seemed a little…" words tumbled over her lips in a jumbled waterfall. She took a deep breath and then looked up. "Are you okay, Sam?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but before he got the words out, his eyes rolled up in his head and everything turned black.

XXX

"Do you know the answer, Mr. Winchester?"

_Duh, it's written on the board asshole! _

"Yeah, the answer is four square roots of two." Mr. Dubose looked quite surprised Dean had gotten the answer, but his face quickly turned into a stern, blank canvas of boredom.

"That is correct," he said before turning and walking back to the board.

Dean rolled his eyes. _Just a few more months and then I'm out of this hell hole for good!_ The only good thing about being a senior was it meant that, coupled with his charm and good looks, any girl was his for the taking.

The phone rang and Mr. Dubose glared at it for interrupting his class.

"Hello?" He said lazily. "Yes…okay…thank you." He hung up and turned to the class. His eyes roamed over all the students and stopped on Dean. "Mr. Winchester, please go down the to main office. Bring your stuff with you, you're leaving." Dean didn't know what this was all about, but he was more than happy to get out of this boring class, so he grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Oh, and Mr. Winchester," Mr. Dubose said as he neared the door, "kindly do pages 56 and 57 in the book for homework." Dean nodded and exited the class room. _Yeah right._ Dad had probably found another hunt and he was being called down the office because Dad wanted to leave now. Dean was already suprised that they had actually stayed in this town for as long as they had. He walked casually into the main office and was surprised to not see Dad standing there with some lie of a family emergency.

"Um, I was just called down here?" Dean said hesitantly.

"Ah, Mr. Winchester," the secretary looked up at him. _What was that in her eyes? It almost looked like…sympathy? Pity? What? _

"Did I do something wrong?" Dean asked, now very confused.

"No, actually, you're here because of your brother." Dean felt like someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water on him.

"Is something wrong?" Dean asked, praying he was mistaken.

"Yeah, your brother passed out in class. An ambulance has been called and should be here in a few minutes." Dean froze. _What? Why would Sam pass out? He has been looking a little off lately…_

"What's wrong?"

"We don't know. We've called your father. You can either wait here for him and have him bring you to the hospital or you can ride in the ambulance with Sam."

"I want to go with Sam." Not a moment of hesitation. She opened her mouth to say something but then sirens could be heard in the distance. Dean turned and he vaguely heard the secretary say something along the lines of "You're dismissed from all afternoon classes, I'll notify your teachers."

Everything after that was somewhat blurry to Dean. He remembered seeing Sam being placed on a gurney and lifted into the ambulance. He vaguely recalled climbing in after him, sitting down and grabbing Sam's pale hand. The same sentence ran unendingly through his head:

_Hold on, Sammy._

TBC…

**I'll try to update sooner, but it could still be a while. Please review and thank you so much for reading and sticking with me!**


	4. Laugh, I Nearly Died

**Hey guys, since I left you so long for the last update, I thought you guys deserved a quick update. So here we are! This chapter doesn't have a ton of action, but it had to be done and I hope you enjoy it just the same.**

**I plan on this being 5 chapters and an epilouge, though epilouge or no epilouge is up to you, so review!**

**Disclaimer: Nope *sniffles* but a girl can hope can't she?**

**Thanks to my beta Little Miss Artist though I did some tweaking so all mistakes are my own. If you see anything glaringly obvious let me know and I'll change it.**

**WHERE WE LEFT OFF:**

**Everything after that was somewhat blurry to Dean. He remembered seeing Sam being placed on a gurney and lifted into the ambulance. He vaguely recalled climbing in after him, sitting down and grabbing Sam's pale hand. The same sentence ran unendingly through his head:**

_**Hold on, Sammy.**_

**NOW:**

**Laugh, I Nearly Died **(Note: this song by the Rolling Stones was used at the end of season 1 episode 5 – Bloody Mary at the end when they are driving away)

Dean paced around the waiting room like an angry tiger, shooting glares at anyone who made any annoyed sighs when he walked by them for the millionth time. The waiting room was a square room that had chairs lining all three walls as well as two rows of chairs in the middle placed back to back so they were facing the chairs on the edge. Only about a quarter of these chairs were currently occupied and their occupants weren't happy that Dean was continually pacing around the oval the chairs created in the middle.

John, who was sitting in one of the chairs along the back wall facing the hallway and, across the hallway, the nurses' station, had also just about had it with Dean's pacing. So when Dean came by for the millionth time, John cracked and snarled, "Sit your ass down right now or so help me…"

Dean obediently sat down, though he didn't look pleased about it. They sat in silence for another thirty minutes before Dean lost it and shouted, "What the hell is taking them so damn long?"

"Dean! Keep your voice down!" John whispered angrily as annoyed occupants shoot them exasperated looks.

A male doctor of about forty walked in. He wore a grim and sympathetic look and Dean felt his heart freeze. _Oh god, no! Sam was fine! He was _fine!_ He was completely healthy yesterday – how could things go so wrong so fast?_ The doctor looked down at the chart in his hand hesitantly, as though preparing himself to deliver the awful news.

"Family of Carrie Winters?" Dean almost passed out from relief. _It wasn't Sam, it wasn't Sam. Sam is fine – well he's at least alive _Dean did feel slightly sad for the older couple who was weeping for Carrie Winters, whom Dean perceived to be there daughter, but the savage, protect-Sam-at-all-cost big-brotherly part of him felt selfishly glad that the terrible news wasn't about Sam. He glanced over at his dad who had the same look of relief and guilt plastered on his face telling Dean he was thinking exactly the same thing.

Not five minutes later a much younger, female doctor walked in. She had a good figure and her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. But what really caught Dean's attention were her eyes. They did not have the sadness that the other doctor's did. Her eyes were happy and _man oh man were they pretty!_ Dean had to remind himself that she was probably twenty-five or so which made her too old for Dean. Besides, he couldn't think much about that when Sam could be hanging between life and death.

"Family of Sam Mckenzie?" Dean got to his feet beside his father and they both made their way over to her.

"How is my son?"

"I take it your Sam's father then," she said pleasantly, "and you are?"

"Dean. Sam's brother." Dean said shortly, wanting to know more about Sam.

"I'm Dr. Winters," she extended her hand to them each in turn, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"My brother being taken to the hospital in an ambulance after passing out then waiting THREE HOURS for news on him isn't exactly what I call a pleasure," Dean said coldly.

Her eyes registered slight surprise as she stammered, "no, that's not what I meant, I was merely…"

"How is my son?" John asked again, effectively cutting her off. He did feel sympathetic for her. Dean had an awful temper when something was wrong with his brother and the woman was taking the heat for it. That didn't mean, however, that John was any less eager to find out what was wrong with Sam.

"Why don't you follow me to a private room so we can have more privacy," she said, which only made Dean and John worry that much more. They anxiously followed her to a small room with a table that had one chair on one side and two on the other.

"Have a seat," she said gesturing to the two chairs.

"What is wrong with my brother?" Dean demanded. He was getting more and more afraid by the minute and afraid was not something Dean handled well. A troubled look crossed her face and she glanced down at the files.

"When Sam went to the clinic recently, were you-"

"Wait, what?" John this time.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, honestly confused.

"Sam hasn't been to any clinic lately, you must have the wrong files," John said.

"There is only one file for Sam Mckenzie, you may not be aware of this, Mr. Mckenzie, but all medical facilities in the county have linked data bases, so medical files can be reached from anywhere for emergencies or situations like this. Sam's weight and height match those of the file, so it's most definitely the same file. Now as I was saying-"

"But Sam didn't go to a clinic," John growled, now getting frustrated, "there's obviously been some mistake-"

"Wait," Dean said, effectively stopping John in the middle of his sentence, "what was the date of Sam's visit?"

"May twenty-seventh?" The woman said, clearly not understanding the connection. John clearly got Dean's point however, and he quickly turned back to Dr. Winters. "So what does the clinic have to do with anything?" John asked.

"I'm sorry, but what did the date have to do with anything?" She asked, clearly confused and desperately trying to keep up.

"We were out of town for the day, so Sam was home alone for the day," John said, his voice saying clearly to move on.

"Um, okay, well, I _was_ under the impression you were aware of Sam's visit and it's results, however now I'm going to assume you had no knowledge of the visit?" Both men shook their heads. "Okay, well Sam was diagnosed with Lyme Disease and was given a prescription for doxycycline, but-"

"Sam has Lyme disease?" Dean asked. He glanced over at his dad who had the same look on his face confirmed he didn't know what that was either. "What's that?"

"Lyme disease, that's lyme like l-y-m-e not l-i-m-e, is an infectious disease caused by various bacteria belonging to the genus Borrelia. Lyme disease can have a variety of symptoms and can affect multiple body systems, making it hard to diagnose. However the giveaway for Lyme disease is a bulls-eye shaped rash, which occurs in about 80% of patients."

"How do you get it?" Dean asked, wanting to know everything about the disease his brother now had.

"Deer ticks. When they bite you they transmit the bacteria from them to you, which is what causes the rash. Has Sam been in the woods recently? Maybe 3 or 4 weeks ago?"

Dean and John shared a knowing glance as they realized. _The werewolf hunt._ Dean instantly felt guilty. That was weeks ago - _weeks_ ago! Sam had been sick for _weeks_ and he hadn't caught it. Now that he was thinking about it he did recall Sam seeming sick. He mentioned a head-ache and definitely seemed sleepy.

"So what is the prognosis?

"For cases of Lyme disease caught at early stages, a simpler antibiotic like doxycycline, is usually quite curative. In later diagnosis, the severity and treatment of it can become more complicated-"

"But you said it was caught when Sam went to the clinic?" Dean asked, getting more and more confused about why his brother was still sick.

"Yes, it was, and Sam was given a prescription for doxycycline for 15 days, which was filled-"

"Then why is Sam still sick?" Dean demanded. John stayed silent, just soaking all the information in.

"That's what we're not sure about. Since the prescription was filled, we're assuming that Sam did in fact take the medication, but we can't be positive. Right now, we're waiting for Sam to wake up to ask him, but we were also hoping you might be able to tell us…"

They both shook their heads. They didn't even know Sam was _sick_ let alone if he was taking his meds.

"Wait!" Dean said suddenly, causing Dr. Winters and John to look at him in surprise. "When we got back, Sam had a bag, when I asked him what was in it, he avoided the question. If he didn't take them, they might still be hidden in his room or something," Dean said hopefully. Yes, it was a long shot. It was far more likely Sam had just thrown the meds out, but still.

"Okay, please find out as soon as you can. Until we know for sure, we can't properly treat him-"

"Aren't there drug tests you can do?" John demanded, cutting her off.

"Yes, however, Sam only had a prescription for fifteen days, which ended about five or six days ago, so they probably wouldn't still be in his system. The problem is you treat late stages of Lyme disease different than early stages. So if he never took the meds at all we would give him ceftriaxone for about three or four weeks. But if he did take the medication and they didn't work, then it's doubtful that ceftriaxone would work, so we would have to figure something else out."

Dean opened his mouth to ask something, but a knock on the door stopped them. They all looked up as the door opened revealing a young nurse with bushy red hair.

"Yes, Sarah?" Dr. Winters asked, not happy about the interruption.

"He's awake."

TBC…

**Thank you so much for reading - please take just a minute more of you time and review! The button is calling you :)**


	5. Tell Me Why

**Hey I finally have the next chapter of Falling Down! Took me forever and I'm not really satisfied with it, but what the heck!**

**Beta'd by the incredible Little Miss Artist**

**Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them. Or any of th!e songs at the end.**

**Sorry if this chapter seemed a little out of character, but maybe that's just me.**

_Where we left off_**: **"Yes, Sarah?" Dr. Winters asked, not happy about the interruption.

"He's awake."

Chapter Five: Tell Me Why

Dr. Winters nodded and turned to Dean and John. "You're welcome to come," she said before heading out the door and down the hall.

Dean and John followed after her and stopped behind her outside of room 113. She took a small breathe before pushing open the door.

Sam was sitting up in bed looking out the window. He was connected to nothing but a heart monitor as they didn't yet know what antibiotics to give him.

"Sam?" Dr. Winters asked professionally. Sam turned to look at her and surprise registered on his face when he laid eyes on Dean and John.

Sam opened his mouth to say something but the doctor beat him to it. "Sam, can you tell me if you took the medicine you were prescribed after your visit at the clinic?"

"I…it…the…" he stammered for a minute before shaking his head no.

"Why not?" John demanded, but before Sam could answer the doctor began again.

"Okay, Sam, I'm going to get a nurse to get you set up with an IV with ceftriaxone," she said before leaving the room.

Dean and John both made their way over to the bed where Sam had suddenly become interested in the fraying edge of the hospital sheet.

"Before I start asking you why this and why that, just start with telling us everything that happened," John said.

"Um, okay, well it started with that werewolf hunt a little while ago. There was a rip in my jeans and at some point while we were in the woods I guess a tick bit me. When I showered when I got home I noticed a really weird mark on the back of my leg-"

"And you didn't think to say anything?" Dean demanded, but John held up a hand and gestured for Sam to continue.

"Uh, then I guess I started getting really tired and I had a headache and I was…achy, I can't really think of any other way to describe it. Then you guys went away for a hunt and I decided to visit the clinic on the way home from school one day. He said I had Lyme Disease and gave me a prescription. I went to get it, but I couldn't afford it, so I had it filled, but I threw it away and just bought some regular medicine. Then you guys came home and I ended up passing out a school and, uh, yeah that's it."

"And you didn't tell us because?" Dean asked.

"When?"

"Anytime! Before the doctor's after the doctor's, just why not at all?"

"I guess I thought I could handle it at first. I didn't really think anything of the mark and I just thought I wasn't getting enough sleep. Then when I went to the doctor's and found out it was something, I didn't want to tell you because…I don't know, hunts don't usually go off without a hitch, usually one of us gets at least a bit hurt, but no one did that time and I didn't want to screw it up. And then the longer I waited the harder it got to tell you."

Dean opened his mouth, but then the nurse came in.

"This is going to hurt a bit, okay, sweetie?" She said before gently inserting the needle connected to the IV into Sam's arm. "We're only going to keep you here for a day or two then you can go home with a prescription that you'll have to take for about a month, then you should be all better, okay?"

_Don't talk to me like I'm five._ Sam longed to say, but instead he simply nodded and she smiled then left the room.

"Sam, getting hurt isn't screwing up," John said.

"Yeah, but I should have known not to wear jeans with holes in the forest. It was a stupid thing to do, I could have gotten poison ivy or-"

"Or gotten bitten by a tick? Sam, it could have happened to any of us. Yes, you shouldn't have worn jeans with holes, but it's not your fault that you have the worst damn luck ever and just happened to find the one tick in the whole forest with Lyme Disease," Dean joked.

"Besides, Sam, it could have been much worse. You always have to tell us if your hurt, even if it seems like nothing," John said. Sickness was something he couldn't protect his boys from, but if he knew then he could help fix it. But if he didn't know, there was nothing he could do.

"Yeah, Dad," Sam said with a small smile on his face.

"So promise no more hiding things?"

"Okay."

"Good," Dean said, "cause I need to go find out where the nurse from earlier, Sarah, went. She can give me mouth to mouth any day." He winked before exiting into the hallway.

John sighed and gave a small shake of his head. Sam smiled contentedly.

Everything was finally back to normal and that was good with the Winchesters.

The End

**Epilogue? Up to you so leave me a review and let me know! If not, then thanks to everyone who stuck by me even though I took forever on updates for this one!**

**Also, I said I would list all the songs and their artists at the end so here they are:**

**Falling Down - Selena Gomez**

**Bad Day - Daniel Powter**

**Hold On - Sarah Mclachlan**

**Laugh, I Nearly Died - Rolling Stones**

**Tell Me Why - Beatles**


End file.
